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Thursday, June 23, 2016

Post-conversion letdown

It's a cliché that many Christian converts are initially zealous, but either become lukewarm or drift away from the faith. Why is that? What, if anything, can be done about it?

I'm sure that this is much more prevalent among men than women. Let's take a stereotypical case. A man converts to Christianity. He learns the basics of Christian theology. He may identify with a particular theological tradition. He learns the jargon. He proselytizes all his friends, relatives, and coworkers. He has debates over creation/evolution, Calvinism/Arminianism, cessationism/continuationism, millennialism/premillennialism, Catholicism/evangelicalism, credobaptism/paedobaptism, &c. He's drawn to controversial and intellectually challenging books like Romans and Revelation.

But after a while, there's a sense in which he's just running in place. What does he do for an encore? Is this all there is to the Christian life? That's when the post-conversion letdown sets in.

Some converts maintain momentum by becoming pastors, evangelists, missionaries, apologists, or seminary professors. However, even in that case, there's the danger of reading and writing, speaking or debating, as an intellectual diversion. A way to pass the time. A distraction to alleviate tedium.

Men tend to be more interested in theological ideas than women. This is true of men generally. More male philosophers, theologians, bloggers, &c. Men like to debate ideas.

New ideas are apt to be more exciting than familiar ideas. So what happens when you feel that you've learned the ropes? Where do you go from there?

One problem is that a lot of Christian laymen have a very superficial knowledge of Christian theology. They could dig a lot deeper. There's also some good Christian fiction.

However, another problem is if we view the Christian life primarily in terms of head knowledge. Now, many Christians would benefit from expanding their head knowledge. They are woefully ignorant.

Ultimately, though, the Christian faith isn't a quest to discover new theological ideas, but to internalize theology. Let it sink in. Become marinated in Christian theology. Live out your faith. Become what you believe. Fidelity. Sanctification. Putting your faith into practice.

To take a comparison, I believe it was Leland Ryken, in Windows to the World, who said great literature is inexhaustible. If you come back to the same book years later, you notice things you missed before. You have a newfound appreciation for an old story.

The story hasn't changed–you have! Life changes us. Although the story is the same, the reader is not the same. Every time you return to the story, you see it through the lens of your own, layered experience. Even though you know the plot, there's something new to you each time you read it because different things resonate with you based on your evolving life experience.

That isn't just true of literature. It can be true of movies and TV dramas.

And that, in turn, has an analogy with the walk of faith. Some Christians stall. For some Christians, the road runs out before the destination because "they've heard it all" before. Now, as a matter of fact, most of them have a very shallow grasp of Scripture and Christian theology. They have lots more to learn. Even if they applied themselves, in the course of a lifetime they'd still be scratching the surface.

Even so, there are limitations to that orientation. The walk of faith is not primarily an intellectual adventure. It's not about discovering what lies over the next hill. If that's your approach, that's an invitation to boredom.

Rather, the walk of faith is more about using "old" ideas, familiar theological truths, to understand the events in your life. To interpret your experience. Births and deaths. Marriage. Child-rearing. Friendship. Betrayal. Illness. Aging. Hope. Frustration. Disappointment.

Use theology as the filter to make sense of these events. Try to find meaning in these events.

Finally, this life is supposed to be disappointing. Supposed to be unsatisfying.

20 comments:

When you say "become what you believe," are you talking about Christians putting down the books for a moment and doing some good works? i.e., volunteering for a soup kitchen, doing visitations, etc.? To me, this seems the best way of combatting intellectual and spiritual pride.

What's so great about the puritans is that they not only challenge one intellectually, but they are very pastoral and can expose one's own heart motivations and sinful attitudes. They also often give one an eternal perspective on this life's joys and difficulties (having lived in troublous times they knew by experience what often we in our modern world only know theoretically/abstractly).

New ideas are apt to be more exciting than familiar ideas. So what happens when you feel that you've learned the ropes? Where do you go from there?

One can develop theological hobbyhorses (often heretical) that become the foundation of one's mission and crusade in life to correct and enlighten the ignorant and misinformed. It can be a source of pride and gnostic snobbery to know a secret truth(s) which one's contemporaries don't recognize. Whether it be the "truths" of Catholicism, Unitarianism (etc.) or even atheism's atheological "truths".

One just needs to tap into that maverick, rebellious, aggressive, confrontational spirit and it can feed a lifetime of disputation (often overcoming the diminished aggression and ambition that results from lowered testosterone as one ages). Cults have begun this way.

Along with geocentrism. Though, I'm open to the possibility of absolute geocentrism myself in light of Robert Sungenis' work on the topic including his videos 1. The Principle and 2. Journey to the Center of the Universe. The latter video is a 4 hour long documentary full of science (I highly recommend "JttCotU").

Even if absolute geocentrism is false, even critics of Absolute Geocentrism admit the permissiblity of relative geocentrism since the Special Theory of Relativity entails that all motion is relative. In which case, one can arbitrarily choose one's frame of reference (including the Earth).

The main issue is Gen. 1:14-20. There is no getting around it. On neither the Heliocentric, Geocentric or Concave model are the sun moon and stars in a firmament. The only, and I repeat, the only model that fits Gen. 1:14-20 is the flat earth model.﻿

Steve, so you're saying the sun, moon and stars are in the earth sky? That isn't the heliocentric model. The firmament is clearly described by Scripture as a solid object. The root Hebrew word, raqa`, clearly refers to a solid substance spread out in its use in scripture.

The Book of Job describes it as hard and strong as a molten looking glass. Job. 37:18. Psa. 19:1 testifies its existence after the flood. Thus, the Hovind theory is incorrect.

As Keil & Delitzsch Commentary on the Old Testament testifies of the Hebrew of Gen. 1:20,

“The Fifth Day. – “God said: Let the waters swarm with swarms, with living beings, and let birds fly above the earth in the face (the front, i.e., the side turned towards the earth) of the firmament.” ישׁרצוּ andיעופף are imperative.”

If the "firmament" is "a solid object," then how do celestial objects move across a solid object?

How do they move at different rates across a solid object?

In fact, wouldn't the entire solid dome would have to move in unison? Yet the sun, moon, and stars aren't always in the exact same spatial relation to one another, the constellations change their positions in relation to other celestial objects over time, etc.

"The root Hebrew word, raqa`, clearly refers to a solid substance spread out in its use in scripture. https://www.blueletterbible.org/lang/lexicon/lexicon.cfm?strongs=H7554&t=KJV"

Strong's isn't exactly the most reliable lexicon.

Besides, you're committing a type of word study fallacy.

And you're ignoring the larger exegetical context (e.g. God calls raqia the "sky" or "heaven" in Gen 1:8). Let alone broader exegetical theological arguments such as Beale's argument that the cosmos described in Gen 1 is meant to represent the temple of God.

"As Keil & Delitzsch Commentary on the Old Testament testifies of the Hebrew of Gen. 1:20"

Keil & Delitzsch is a 19th century commentary. There's been a lot of relevant scholastic advancement since then (e.g. archeology, linguistics).

By the way, wittingly or unwittingly, you're playing into the hands of people like Seely and Enns.

1. Drake the snake is likewise a chameleon. Each time one encounters him he has a new theological whim to obsess over. A new fad which he proudly and confidently parades as The Truth to End All Truth. Evidently a flat earth is his latest novelty.

2. What's more, Drake is as vain as a peacock. He wants people to think he's something or somebody. This is presumably why he latches onto one new theological craze after another, that is, in the hopes of making himself out to be a special snowflake. He desires to be a teacher of the law without understanding either what he's saying or the things about which he makes confident assertions.

3. Perhaps another viable possibility is Drake has a feather light and unstable mind which flits and flitters with the ever changing winds.

4. Drake fancies himself an Athanasius contra mundum. The lonely warrior for truth. However, someone genuinely interested in the truth would be amenable to reason, which Drake is not, as can be observed in this very thread, for instance.

v) If the earth is flat, and I travel far enough in the same direction, can I fall off the edge of the earth? Is that like a waterfall where the oceans empty into outer space? If I scale a mountain at the end of the earth, will I fall off the edge of the earth into outer space?

vi) If Drake thinks the earth is square (e.g. corners of the earth), why is the shadow of the earth circular during a lunar eclipse?

"Ultimately, though, the Christian faith isn't a quest to discover new theological ideas, but to internalize theology. Let it sink in. Become marinated in Christian theology. Become what you believe. Fidelity. Sanctification. Putting your faith into practice."

For me and several of my friends, having children is what has "marinated" us in the theology we profess. It's helped our sanctification immensely, in several directions. Since the grain of the culture is toward selfishness and away from having children, choosing to have children is a counter-cultural act of faith. It's a way of being foolish in the world's eyes. That may not have been the case in the past, when fertility was worshiped, but it is the case today.